Of Books and Weaknesses
by CassandraEm
Summary: Hermione and Draco have done their best to lead quiet lives after the war. Their quiet lives are turned seemingly upside down by a faithful book club, a demanding bride, a group of nosey friends, and an uncanny inability to stay away from each other. Dramione! Rated T for language.
1. Paper Pushing

**Hello friends! Please enjoy my new fanfic. I had an older one uploaded under this user name called "Ruin". My heart wasn't in that one anymore, but this story has a very similar premises, but better (I hope). **

**Also, I own know of this fantasy world, sadly. **

**Happy reading. **

* * *

Draco Malfoy wondered if it was possible to die from sheer lack of mental stimulation. He thought it must have been as he could swear that he felt his brain leaking from his ears.

You see, Draco Malfoy was a paper pusher. A _Ministry_ paper pusher.

The large oak desk in his small office was littered with reports. This time of year was particularly busy for the Ministry as it was the end of their fiscal year and employees were rushing to get reports filed and approved. That's where he came in, at least for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He stretched his limbs carefully, mindful to not knock over any files over. A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he rubbed his temples, pushing deeply into his own skin. Another hour and he was free to go, back to his quiet cottage to spend the night in peace and solidarity. Just as the thought filled him with some semblance of joy, his door creaked open and a draft sent his papers ruffling.

A ginger head poked its way through the crack in the door.

"Uh, Malfoy?"

"Can I help you with something, Weasley?" The annoyance in his voice was evident and he had to physically stop himself from groaning. Ron Weasley took his question as an invitation to enter the tight space. His lanky body took up more room than Draco was comfortable with and he smelled faintly of stale coffee. He shoved his hands into his robe pockets before he spoke.

"I need that report I submitted last week. The one on Dolohov," Ron asserted with a touch of too much superiority for Draco's tastes. "Kingsley's been breathing down my neck and I can't afford to hand this one in late."

"Your incompetence is not my problem, Weasel. It'll be done when it's done," Draco drawled, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into his chair.

"Listen, you git, I need the stupid report so if you –"

"And while we're on the topic of incompetence, do me a favour and invest in a spell check quill, yeah? Your spelling is horrendous."

"Whatever, Malfoy," Ron said, rolling his eyes, but the blush that spread across his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. "Just have it on my desk by Monday."

He backed awkwardly out of the room, his sleeve almost getting caught in his rush to shut the door behind him. Draco took out his wand and gave it a slight wave, a thick folder flying out from under a larger pile. He had finish the Dolohov report two days ago, but someone needed to humble Weasley and it may as well be him. He was learning to enjoy the little pleasures in life. He set the folder to send itself on Monday afternoon and put the report out of mind. Another wave of his wand and his briefcase was packed. He gave his office a last visual sweep and headed out for an early weekend. After that encounter, Draco felt as though he had earned it.

The journey down to the apparition point was uneventful. He gave a few curt nods to some familiar faces and waved halfheartedly to Theodore Nott, but mostly he kept to himself. He caught a glimpse of Potter and Weasley making their way down to the Floo network and Weasley still looked like he was in a sour mood. A tinge of satisfaction settled within Draco by the time he reached his destination. He stepped into the designated area and disappeared with a crack.

Paper pushing complete.

* * *

"You look awful."

"Thanks, Pansy. Pleasure to see you too," he deadpanned to the woman already seated at the table. He slipped into his seat in front of her, slumping down.

"I'm just saying, Draco. You look like shit. You'd do well with some sleep," Pansy suggested, her pert nose scrunching up as she took in his appearance. "And a hair cut."

Draco didn't think himself haggard. It was just busy at work and he didn't have time to worry about his hair, which was very close to brushing his collarbone. He knew his eyes must have looked sunken and dull, dark circles permanently etched into his pale skin. At least his clothes were impeccable. Pressed grey slacks and a tailored white button down, clean and smart. Besides, there was no one to impress at the Ministry. There was a reason they had stuck him in a glorified broom closet and buried him under a pile of papers.

"I'm busy, you know that. I'll let you rip into my looks next week when I have more time to deal with it, yeah?" he asked her, only half joking. He really could use a hair cut.

The waitress stopped at their table to take their order. She was pretty, with bright blue eyes that lingered for a moment too long on Draco. Pansy looked irritated and cleared her throat loudly to capture the girl's attention. "I'll have the quinoa salad with the lemon vinaigrette. "

"Yes, ma'am," the girl replied nervously. She turned to Draco once again and beamed. "And for you, sir?"

"The steak. Medium rare," he ordered, handing the waitress his menu.

"And do bring another bottle of sparkling water when you've finish ogling my friend," simpered Pansy. She handed back her menu with a smile and watched as the girl squeaked and hurried off towards the kitchen. "It is so hard to find good customer service these days."

"Was that really necessary, Pans? She's probably going to spit in your food now," Draco pointed out.

"She won't if she knows what's good for her. I don't know how you stand it anyways, all the staring, it's a complete invasion of privacy," continued Pansy on her tirade.

"She wasn't staring, she was admiring," clarified Draco. "It's a nice change from the usual contempt filled glares, really."

"Touché," agreed Pansy, picking up her glass and downing her water. The next fifteen minutes passed without much incidence. The conversation was light and flowed easily from topic to topic, although Pansy had a habit of carrying most of it. Draco was used to her boisterous personality, they had, after all, been friends for years. If he really thought about it Pansy was one of the only true friends he had left other than Blaise. It was no surprise how quickly people scattered and turned their back on him once the war came to an end. But Pansy had stayed along with Blaise, both damaged in their own right, their worldviews shaken to the core. They were just kids forced to turn on everything they had ever known and somehow they had all come out the other side relatively unscathed.

When the food arrived – delivered notably by a different waitress – Pansy brokered a change of subject, a determined look in her eye. "May I ask you something?" she started as she neatly refolded the napkin in her lap.

"Would it make a difference if I said no?" Draco sighed.

"Quite right. Well." She took a deep breath and locked her green eyes onto his, "Draco Malfoy, look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. Is Blaise proposing to me in Milan next week?"

"How should I know," scoffed Draco. "Do you really think Blaise and I sit around and chat about your relationship all day?"

Truth is, that's exactly what they did. Not by any choice of his. Every other word out of Blaise's mouth was _Pansy this_ and _Pansy that _and _I miss Pans_. His eyes glazed over every time he spoke of her. Draco supposed that's what being in love felt like; all consuming and utterly mind numbing. And of course he knew that Blaise was proposing, he had been the one to set him up to the jeweller that crafted the ring. A deep beautifully cut emerald stone flanked by two smaller diamonds. He had only watched Blaise open and close the box a hundred times since it had been finished.

"I know for a fact that you and Blaise have met a total of six times this month, that's two more than usual," Pansy pressed on, pointing her fork at him.

"Merlin, woman!" he chuckled. "Do you have a tracking spell on him? You sound insane."

Pansy raised a perfectly plucked brow and smirked. "I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation, but your defensive nature tells me all I need to know."

"You really are certifiable, remember that when you spend the next week griping over whether or not its going to happen," Draco said, shaking his head and turning his attention back to his half finished steak.

"Darling, you know me better than that," admonished Pansy. "Why would I need to gripe when I can find out exactly what I want by asking the right questions?"

"You missed your calling as an inquisitor, truly."

"Anyways," she sighed. "Do me a favour and keep next summer open, I'm thinking of having a July wedding."

"Sure, Pans. I'll make sure to clear my ridiculously busy schedule, desk work takes up my weekends all the time" he agreed sarcastically. Pansy chewed thoughtfully on the last bite of her salad, regarding him with what he thought was an expression of pity.

"Still no luck on the promotion front?" she asked.

Draco shook his head. For the last six months, rumours had been floating around the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that Cormac McLaggen was leaving his job as an auror to pursue a position with Gringotts Bank. This left his position of auror wide open with no foreseeable plans of succession as far as Draco was concerned. But it was a pipe dream, or at least it was for him.

"To be honest with you, I haven't even asked," he admitted. "So they don't even know I'm interested."

Pansy rolled her eyes and frowned at him. "Come on, Draco. This isn't like you. You would have never let an opportunity like this pass you by. Where's that Draco? The Draco who would go after exactly what he wants?"

"That Draco ceased to exist four years ago."

"Don't be so dramatic," she said, exasperated. She waved a hand in his direction and settled it on his arm in what he assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Instead, he felt slightly peeved, her perfect manicure digging into his arm and her gaze levelled and insistent.

He pulled his arm back and rubbed his forearm unconsciously, careful not to pull up his sleeve. "I'm serious. If it wasn't for golden boy Potter I'd probably be shut away in Azkaban."

"Bless his heart, he truly is useful for something," Pansy said, semi-mockingly, but lacking her once practiced malice. "Why don't you talk to him then? Surely he can pull some strings for you, surpass chain of command-"

"Now I really know you're crazy," chuckled Draco. "I'd rather spend a night with Millicent than ask Potter for a favour."

"How rude. Millicent is perfect lovely. If a little rough around the edges…" she finished off the last part under her breath. "Isn't being an auror important to you? Or do you prefer to die a perfectly ordinary death in that broom closet they dare to call an office?"

He didn't answer. Of course it was important to him. And of course he didn't want to waste away at his desk job. But if there were two things that Draco was familiar with it was loyalty and a sense of duty. The only two things keeping him from daring to ask for handouts or favours. This is just the way it had to be, a mediocre life with a mediocre job, remaining as invisible as possible until he faded from living memory.

"Your silence is absolutely deafening," said Pansy sarcastically. "Listen, you've paid your debt, Draco – far longer than we've paid ours. You were just a child. Let it go. Everyone else has! I hate to break it to you, but no one gives a shit what happens to you, so you may as well start living."

"You know," he answered thoughtfully, "I can name a few people who would still love to take a swing."

"Add me to the list. You're insufferable. I don't know how your dear mother puts up with such a brooding child," she mused.

"And I don't know how yours puts up with such a pushy witch."

"Who do you think I inherited it from?" she said with a grin.

"Touché," Draco conceded, a nod in her direction.

"Promise me you'll think about it," finished Pansy. "I think it would be a good exercise in character for you. Merlin knows you need some of that. Besides, as the best man at my wedding you'll have many expenses, so the pay raise would be wonderful."

"Well in that case, I'll schedule tea with Potter tomorrow," Draco deadpanned.

"Wonderful, I knew you'd see it my way eventually. All you needed was a little bit of perspective," she said as she tossed some galleons onto the table and got up, smoothing out the wrinkles from her pale pick skirt. "Anyways, I'll see you when I get back from Milan, most likely laden with a particular piece of jewelry."

"I'll be waiting with bated breath," he said, also rising from the table and contributing to the galleons. He walked outside with Pansy, passing the ogling waitress, her eyes now downcast. He scowled. Pansy always did know how to ruin the fun in her own special way. He gave her one final hug and a quick kiss on her forehead before he apparated from Diagon Alley.

Mercifully homebound.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed that little intro chapter! Please leave a review and feel free to PM me with any questions or suggestions. I will be back soon with an update. Next up: our fave bookworm! **


	2. Favours

**Happy reading!**

* * *

Hermione Granger sighed as she heard the telltale sound of several books thudding to the floor. She peered towards the back of shop and saw a mass of orange fur sauntering high up on the shelves without a care in the world, bushy tail waving back and forth. She slid off of her chair and trudged to the back of the room, picking up books along the way. _War and Peace. Animal Farm. _Sometimes she could swear he was doing this on purpose.

She levitated the books back to their rightful spots and followed Crookshanks into the back room. She found him pawing at a little hole in the wall, straining to reach in as far as possible, and his tail twitching irritably. He grumbled as Hermione scooped him up, stroking the fur on his head.

"Really, Crooks, you know you're not going to fit through that hole no matter how hard you try," she explained to the orange creature as she made her way back to the front of the shop. He stared back at her, defiance evident in his eyes as he blinked slowly back at her.

"You need to leave poor Guildenstern alone…"

"I still can't believe they named the niffler Guildenstern," Ginny Potter said exasperatedly as she hopped up onto the shop's counter. She was still dressed in her Harpies training uniform, her long red hair pulled back into a plait. Her bag was dumped unceremoniously at her feet and a tiny practice Snitch rolled out onto the floor and under a bookshelf.

"You're never going to get that back, you know," Hermione said pointing to the bookshelf. She set Crookshanks down and he immediately darted towards the Snitch.

"Not to worry," Ginny assured her. "Luna will find it in a pile of Guild's things and send it back along with everything else the bugger has snatched."

"I didn't think Luna would take to Shakespeare that quickly, but I guess the name really stuck," mused Hermione.

"Shakes-who?" inquired Ginny.

"Muggle playwright," explained Hermione.

"Muggles come up with the weirdest names…"

"If you say so, Ginerva!" chirped Hermione.

Ginny scowled at her friend and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Just then, the tiny bell above the door tinkled as Luna Lovegood appeared to float into the shop. Her blond hair was unkempt as usual and her floor length skirts attracted the attention of Crookshanks, pulling him away from the Snitch under the shelf.

"Hullo, friends," she spoke in that ethereal voice of hers. "What's got your wackerspurts all frazzled, Ginny?"

"My wackerspurts are comp-"

"Oh, she's just mad her name is Ginerva," Hermione interrupted.

"Am not!" came the petulant response.

"Wackerspurts don't lie. Besides, Ginvera is a lovely name," decided Luna, breezing by her friends and settling in a red armchair across from them. Guildenstern scuttled out from under the bookcase, a distinctly metallic clatter coming from inside his pouch. He climbed up onto Luna's lap and kept himself busy with tiny gold buttons on her shirt.

"Enough with the names," Ginny sighed, effectively putting an end to the conversation. "I didn't come here to talk about me, for once. I actually came here to talk about you, 'Mione."

"What about me?" Hermione asked suspiciously. She much preferred it when Ginny talked about herself, much less trouble that way.

"I've come to proposition you for a date."

"With whom, may I ask?" asked Hermione, her voice painfully saccharine.

"Before I say it, I just want to remind you, don't shoot the owl, okay? Its Cormac McLaggen," Ginny said the last part in a rush as if that would make the message more pleasant.

"Absolutely not," Hermione asserted, turning on her heal and busying herself with straightening the books on the shelf closest to her.

"You haven't even let me explain!" Ginny whined.

"I can hardly fathom an explanation that would make me say yes," reasoned Hermione. "He was awfully dull in school."

Hermione recalled spending most of Professor Slughorn's holiday party hiding behind a curtain to escape his particularly bland persona. She _had_ let him walk her back to the common room after the party, where he had stood expectantly in front of her. She managed to dodge him as he leaned in for a kiss and hurried up the stairs to her room, her face and chest flush with embarrassment.

"Oh, stop," waved Ginny. "There is no way he is that dull anymore. You know he works in the auror department with Harry, right?"

"He could work for Merlin himself and it wouldn't make a difference!"

"What if I told you that it was Harry who asked me to ask you," posed Ginny. "He says that Cormac won't stop loitering in front of his office ever since you visited Harry for lunch a couple of weeks ago."

Hermione stayed silent.

"If anything you should just do it for Harry. Poor guy is getting whiplash watching Cormac wear a trench into the floor…" Ginny shrugged.

"You shouldn't look, you know," interjected Luna. Ginny and Hermione were both unaware that she had even been paying attention. Usually Luna was happily zoned out, content to just be present.

"Shouldn't look for what?" asked Hermione.

"For love, of course. Its best when you stumble upon it," Luna clarified. "Besides, you'll throw your sprites off balance if you go searching."

Ginny stared unblinkingly at Luna, her brow furrowed, before she turned to Hermione. "Don't listen to her "Mione, not all of us stumble upon the love of our life in the middle of the Amazonian rainforest."

Luna shrugged in response, an absent-minded smile on her lips.

"It could be fun! Best case scenario you really enjoy yourself. Worst case scenario you get a free dinner...and help out Harry," she added as a calculated after thought.

"You're my least favourite person at the moment," deadpanned Hermione.

"So that means you'll do it?"

"Only for Harry!" insisted Hermione. She was determined to not enjoy herself, but there was not much she wouldn't do for Harry. And devious Ginerva Potter knew that.

"Wonderful," beamed Ginny. "So, shall I come by tonight to help you pick out an outfit?"

"Tonight?" asked Hermione. "No, I can't. I have far too much to do here."

"Right, because the three of us are being incredibly productive," Ginny said gesturing to the three of them. Luna was still lounging on the armchair, the niffler curled up comfortably in her lap. Ginny was practically laying on the counter and Hermione was mindlessly organizing books that had been organized a hundred times prior. The picture of productivity.

"I can close up shop, Hermione," said Luna. "I don't mind doing it alone."

"You mean you wouldn't mind being alone with Rolf…" grumbled Hermione under her breath. "Well, I guess there is no use in arguing. Let me grab my things from the back and I'll apparate home."

"I'll meet you in an hour," called Ginny as she hopped off the counter and collected her equipment bag. She lifted her arm and, in a most lady like fashion, sniffed her underarm. "I desperately need a shower."

* * *

"Hermione, for Circe's sake. Do try and wear something a little bit scandalous." Ginny stepped out of the closet with a strappy red dress in her hands. "What about this one?"

"I think not," Hermione said, shaking her head. She plucked the dress out of Ginny's hands and retreated into the closet to return it to its hanger. She was quite happy with the blue dress she was wearing.

"At least put on the silver heels then!"

Silence.

A silver streak came whizzing out of the closet.

"I caught it for you!" Ginny cried out cheerfully.

"Damn Quidditch players…"

* * *

An hour later, Hermione is seated across from Cormac. She must admit, he is quite handsome. His blond hair is pushed back and he is sporting a smart collared shirt and jacket. His eyes are bright and glossy.

If only his mouth would stop moving.

Since they had arrived he had talked incessantly about himself. About his job. About his family. About his accomplishments. She was surprised he didn't describe in detail his visit to the bathroom as something extraordinary _must_ have happened to the extremely fortunate Cormac McLaggen. Hermione had learned he was moving on from his job at the ministry. _More money to be made in business, _he explained to her, _but I don't know how they'll find someone half as competent to replace me_. She had learned that he still frequently dined with Slughorn. _Once favourable, always favourable!_ He told her that he had recently seen the Patil twins and _I swear, that Padma really let herself go!_

And Hermione swore she was a moment away from _Avada_-ing herself into sweet, sweet oblivion.

"…and my grandmother left all the land to me! Imagine that! I'm planning on building a cabin there, truly stunning in the summer," he finished explaining. He took a rather large bite of his steak, scraping the fork with his front teeth in a way that made Hermione grimace.

"Wow," she deadpanned. "That sounds wonderful."

"So…" he trailed off. "Do you want to tell me about your line of work?"

It took all her strength to not roll her eyes.

"Well," she started. "I own my own book shop."

"Really? I'm sure Harry must have mentioned it at some point…" Cormac stated in confusion.

"Oh, I'm sure he did," agreed Hermione. "But with your busy schedule and all, it must be hard to remember all the small details."

"You're probably right," he nodded. Hermione internally cringed. "I would have guessed you'd end up at the Ministry. Something to do with creature rights, or the like. What was that organization you started? Spe….Spear…Spem?"

"SPEW"

"Yes, SPEW!" he said, waving his steak covered fork in her direction.

"I thought about the Ministry for a while, but I think I just needed a break from that side of life. A book shop seemed like a nice get away," admitted Hermione, brushing a bit of meat off of the front of her dress.

"You know, my great aunt owned a rather successful book shop in…"

Hermione sighed. "Excuse me, I have to visit the ladies room."

Her chair screeched against the hardwood floors as she snatched up her purse and made her way towards the bathroom. She was halfway through a list of potential nonverbal and wandless jinxes she knew when she smacked straight into a figure coming out of the bathroom.

"Watch where you're going!" came the pitched warning. "Oh, Granger. It's you."

"Pleasure to see you too, Parkinson, you're looking especially peaky tonight."

"You know, I would usually make a nasty comment, but I'm in a particularly good mood," Pansy said, the smaller girl standing firmly in the doorway of the bathroom. "Why the rush, whom are you running from, anyways?" Curiosity finally getting the best of her.

"I don't _run_ away from people," insisted Hermione, crossing her arms. "I am simply visiting the ladies room."

Pansy craned her neck to look behind Hermione. Her eyes settled on Cormac sitting alone at their table, looking utterly lost with no one to exalt himself to. "Ah, say no more."

"He's really not that bad," Hermione supplied weakly.

"Oh please," scoffed Pansy. "I had the misfortune of going out with him a couple of years ago. Ripping my ears off would have been more pleasant."

Hermione smirked despite herself. "I just have to make it through dessert and then I am going to maim Harry and Ginny for putting me through this."

"While that is the kind of violence I would normally condone, why even force yourself to make it through dessert?" asked Pansy, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "I can go out and tell him something urgent arose, something that needed your upmost attention. Poor Cormac would need to talk to himself for the rest of the night."

"No offence, Parkinson, but you're one of the last people who I would take a favour from."

"I told you, I'm in a particularly good mood," Pansy shrugged. "Besides, the look on his face will be entertainment enough. Really you'd be doing me the favour."

"I don't know…"

"Has he told you about his grandfather's hunting trophies yet?"

"On second thought," decided Hermione, "I'll take you up on the offer."

"Splendid," Pansy said, clapping her hands together. "Best to escape out of the back and apparate."

"Thanks, Park- Pansy," Hermione corrected herself. After all, the girl was doing her a monumental service.

"You're welcome…Hermione."

And with that, Pansy swept past Hermione, her skirt swishing as she walked towards Cormac. Hermione didn't hang around long enough to see the aftermath.

Besides, she had a certain Potter household to visit.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading. I also want to thank those who favourited and reviewed, it means the world to me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter from Hermione's point of view. It does happen on the same day as last chapter, just later that night. Next chapter we'll have a mix of Draco and Hermione (potentially a meeting?!). Let me know what you guys think, please review and feel free to PM me with any comments, questions, suggestions or concerns!**


	3. Adventure Knocks

**Happy reading!**

* * *

"Ginny Potter. Get down here this instant."

The red head appeared at the top of the stairs. "I take it the date went smashingly then?"

"Seriously, Gin," huffed Hermione, throwing herself onto the couch and kicking off her heels. "How could you think that he was a good match for me?"

"Oh, come on," said Ginny as she made her way down the stairs and plopped down beside her exasperated friend. "It could not have been that bad."

"Oh, but it was! I know the intimacies of the McLaggen family tree – did you know that his great-uncle used to sell magical pearls gathered from the Aegean? I kept thinking _please, whatever holy deity is listening, please let me choke on my wine and die_," finished Hermione dramatically, her hands clasped in front of her in mock prayer.

Ginny could barely stifle her giggles. Footsteps at the top of the stairs attracted the attention of both girls. Harry was coming down grinning, obviously having heard enough of the conversation. "McLaggen is a tosser, but thanks for taking one for the team. At least he'll stop pacing in front of my office now."

"You're an arse, Harry," declared Hermione. "Hunting horcruxes was more pleasant than that. You know Pansy Parkinson had to save me."

"Are you serious?" asked Ginny, eyes wide. "Tell me she grew into her nose!"

Hermione swatted at her. "She looked perfectly fine, and helped me more than you lot did. I may have to send her flowers."

"Whatever helps the healing process," shrugged Ginny. "Everyone misses you at mums."

Ginny was always good at changing the subject.

"I've been meaning to come over. Its just that Ron and Lavender, they make me want to…"

"Vomit?"

"Pull your hair out?"

Harry and Ginny supplied their answers at the same time and far too quickly for Hermione's comfort.

"Your words, not mine," Hermione pointed at both of them. "They really are perfect for each other though, I don't know why I denied it for so long."

"You were probably blinded by prepubescent love," Ginny says, propping her feet up on the coffee table.

"You fell in love with me when we were prepubescent," Harry reminded her, settling into the armchair opposite his wife.

Ginny smiled sweetly, "best not to dwell on the details, love."

"Promise you'll come to dinner Sunday?" Harry asked Hermione, choosing to ignore Ginny's comment.

"Charlie is back from Romania I think," came the seemingly innocent anecdote from Ginny.

Hermione had spent a month in Romania with him last year, just as friends of course. Purely for research purposes. But it was hard to ignore the fact that Charlie Weasley was handsome, in a rugged way, very different than Ron. He was gruff, she remembered, but chatty and quick to laugh. She wasn't his type, she thought to herself. She had seen the revolving door of girls in and out of the cabin on the weekends, blond, leggy, beautiful. Not bookish. Not bushy haired. She could not help but feel warm, however, at the memories of him cooking breakfast for just the two of them, every day without fail. It took Ginny all but five minutes upon Hermione's return to entertain the idea of her friend with another one of her brothers.

"Sure, I'll drop by. Let Molly know, will you?"

Hermione collected her things and transfigured her heels into a practical pair of flats before slipping them on. The Potters stood in their doorway, waving at their very best friend as she made her way to the apparition point.

They were taking bets on how long it would take for Ron to say something stupid on Sunday.

* * *

"Darling, I'm in the sitting room."

Draco made his way through the cottage, the last remaining piece of Malfoy property. He found his mother dressed elegantly in white, her blond hair tucked into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. In front of her was an assortment of tea cakes and a rather large pot of tea.

"Hello, mother," he greeted, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek before taking a seat and helping himself to a tea cake.

"You're father sends his best," she told him with a tight smile. "He's sorry he couldn't be here."

"Perhaps its for the best," came the terse response. "Maybe next time if he's feeling up to it."

"Yes, I'm sure next time he'll manage."

His mother was always morbidly optimistic. She had been raised in a family who tended to get their way. Old habits died hard, he thought, and then felt immediately guilty for thinking poorly of his mother. Its not like this was an ideal situation for her, practically on house arrest in a cottage that was not her home. Not Malfoy Manor. However, he had an inkling that she was much happier than she let on when they were forced to give up the Manor. Too many awful memories housed in those walls.

She handled everything well, considering. She busied herself in the garden and a consistent social calendar. Draco barely saw her other than their scheduled lunches. They spoke easily of inconsequential things. She asked about Pansy and if she suspected anything about the Milan trip. _Yes, mother, I think she does. _She wanted to know how work was going and if he had mentioned his desire to be promoted. _It's alright and no I haven't. _She lectured him much like Pansy had, except her tirade was more tactful. _I promise I'll speak to someone, yes mother, of course. _He needed a distraction.

"How are aunt Andromeda and Teddy?" he asked, happy to interject, but also genuinely curious.

"She's alright, busy with the little one," Narcissa beamed. "Oh, Draco, you should see him, the tiny thing. How long has it been for you? Six months? He's changed so much. You should see him on the broom I got him, quick as…"

He graciously listened as he was on the receiving end of every developmental update that Teddy had gone through in the last six months.

"…and anyways, they'll be coming over on Friday. For book club," finished Narcissa.

If you had told Draco Malfoy a few years ago that his pureblood, socialite mother would be a member of a two person book club along with her estranged sister, he would have hexed you.

"What's on the reading list for Friday?" he inquired, sipping carefully on his tea.

"Funny you should mention that, I'm having trouble procuring the volumes," admitted Narcissa. "Flourish and Blotts doesn't carry the novels we're looking for and I was wondering if you could help."

"I don't see why they wouldn't," Draco said, confused.

"It's called _The Tempest_."

"Is it a new potions book? I haven't heard of it."

"Actually, it's a muggle book," said Narcissa.

Draco reached over and placed the back of his hand gently on her forehead. Narcissa rolled her eyes in a practiced fashion.

"Just checking to see if you have a fever," explained Draco, leaning back into his chair. "My mother. Reading a muggle book. It truly is a different time."

"Oh, hush. Andromeda suggested it," Narcissa revealed. "Can you help me or not?"

"I'll try my best," Draco grumbled, unable to deny his mother.

A small smile graced her lips as she steered the conversation in a different direction

* * *

The Burrow was crowded.

Hermione figured that once everyone started having more children Molly would have to expand the house. She dodged little Victoire Weasley toddling after Teddy as she made her way into the kitchen. She greeted what felt like an endless parade of redheads. She hugged the boys and their wives and fiancés. _It's so good to see you, why yes it has been too long!_

Molly held her especially close before she rambled on about Hermione was far too skinny and _please help yourself to seconds. _

During dinner, she sat wedged between Ginny and George, and directly across from Charlie who was looking particularly handsome in a knit sweater. She was in the middle of listening to a rather fascinating tale from Charlie when Ron and Lavender hurried in and took their seats at the opposite end of the table. He waved awkwardly in her direction and Lavender barely made eye contact long enough to know she was there.

"Thank Merlin ickle Ronniekins made it," George said loud enough for those around him to hear. "Perish the thought of dinner without the wonder couple."

Angelina kicked him under the table.

Conversation flowed readily and the cacophony of voices lulled Hermione into a state of well-worn comfort. That is until Ron stood up.

He cleared his throat. "If I could have everyone's attention? I just wanted to share some good news with you all. Lavender – uh, _we_ are pregnant."

What followed was silence that lasted a beat too long and then a myriad of congratulations from around the table. Lavender beamed at the attention and placed her hands over her still flat stomach. Ron looked overwhelmed, but happy. She supposed she couldn't blame him.

Ginny squeezed her hand.

After dinner the discussion was dominated by Molly Weasley and her ideas for a wedding that would happen in less than two months. _Before you're showing, you see! _Hermione took this opportunity to slip into the kitchen. She was sitting on the floor conjuring bubbles for Victoire when the door creaked open.

"Hey 'Mione," came the timid greeting.

"Ron," she smiled. "Congratulations."

He rocked back on his heels. "Listen, Hermione, I meant-"

"No," she stopped him. "Really, you don't owe me an explanation. We broke up a year ago. Truly, I'm happy for you."

"I know, it's just, I should have told you sooner, at least warned you…" he mused, his cheeks flushing.

Victoire giggled and settled into Hermione's lap, sticking her tiny hands out to pop the bubbles shooting out of Hermione's wand.

"You don't warn people of good news, Ronald," chastised Hermione gently. "You're going to be a great father."

"Thanks," he whispered, clearly unsure of himself.

"You should get back to your family, I hear you have a wedding to plan," encouraged Hermione.

Ron nodded and stepped out of the kitchen, unsure of what to say. Not a moment later Charlie wandered into the room, two butterbeers in his hands.

"I thought you could use one," he said, handing her one of the mugs. She maneuvered around Victoire and accepted it graciously. He slid down against the wall to sit beside her on the kitchen floor.

"How are you holding up?" he asked her.

She sighed. "Why do I feel like everyone wants to ask me that? I'm fine, really. We broke up a long time ago. It was my idea anyways."

"They do say you're the brightest witch of our age," he jokes, nudging her with his elbow.

"Ha ha," Hermione deadpans.

"I'm serious," he presses. "You were much too good for Ron."

"That's your brother you're talking shit about," she says, covering little Victoire's ears mindfully.

"And that's why I can say that with complete confidence," Charlie explains with an easy chuckle. "You can do better than the simple life he would have offered you. The wanker is going to work his nine to five job and Lavender is going to pop out a few kids and they'll eventually go senile and hate each other."

Hermione laughed despite herself. "Maybe I want simple."

"I don't believe it for one minute."

They sat in comfortable silence for a couple moments. Victoire crawled out of Hermione's lap and was currently half asleep in her uncle's arms. She was enjoying the view when someone called out Charlie's name from outside of the kitchen.

"Duty calls," he shrugged, lifting his large frame off the floor and dusting off his jeans, all the while cradling Victoire. "Adventure will come knocking soon enough for you, Hermione. Let me know when it does."

She was glad that he hadn't stuck around long enough to see the blush bloom across her chest and cheeks.

* * *

When Draco arrived to work on Monday, he was late.

He rushed to catch a lift and he thanked Merlin that a hand stuck out to keep the door from closing. Until he saw whom the hand was attached to.

"Potter," he nodded curtly in thanks.

"Malfoy," Harry acknowledged with a courteous nod of his own.

Silence enveloped them.

"So," Harry started awkwardly. "How was your weekend?"

"Uneventful," supplied Draco.

More silence. Then, "I don't suppose you know where I could find muggle books in Diagon Alley, do you?"

Harry looked surprised. "I do actually. Hermione stocks them."

_Adventure knocks._

* * *

**Thank you for reading everyone! Hope you liked the latest addition. Just want to thank everyone for favouriting, reviewing and following this fic. Just wanted to clarify that it is around 2002 in this story, so Teddy is around 4 and Victoire would be around 2. Audrey and Percy also have one on the way, just for some more orientation. A bit of POV shifting here, but I hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter I swear they will finally meet. **

**Please take a moment to review if you can, I accept any and all feedback or constructive criticism :) Much love! **


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